Two and a half weeks
by Ansy Pansy aka Panz
Summary: As opposed to nine and a half weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break up, something's wrong. REPOSTED...will continue this time! Final chapter up!
1. What is up with you?

**2 and ½ weeks**

What is up with you?

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Well the story is…not the characters.

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Yeah I know…I'm meant to be not writing…at least not random other stuff but I did. Last night this happened. Think it might be a short, short-chaptered fic another version of Kirsten's abortion. I'm up to my third version lol!

Reposted this because I made a couple of little changes and corrections. Will actually continue this time!

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'What is up with you?' Sandy Cohen snapped at his girlfriend of six weeks.

_He didn't mean it to come out like that, it just did. _

'What's up with _me_?' she spat back. 'You're the one who's been weird all day.'

_That was the way; lash out, turn this around; anything to take the focus of her._

He raised one bushy eyebrow. '_You've_ been acting strange all _week_, maybe two.'

_Kirsten wasn't herself, he needed to know whether it was his fault._

'I-,' she began, raising one hand exasperatedly, her voice angry, then suddenly seeming to lose the energy. 'I don't know.'

_He was right. But she was lying. _

Hot tears sprung from Kirsten's eyes and she forcefully wiped them away, petulantly shrugging off her boyfriend's comforting arm.

_He hated it when she did that. Pretended she wasn't crying. Pretended nothing was wrong. When it was, obviously._

'It's just PMS,' she muttered quietly, 'except…'

_Except she was late. Very late. _

'What?'

_Tell me._

'Northing,' she cried, turning away sharply and wrapping her arms around herself.

_This wasn't happening. She was just being paranoid._

Sandy sighed, softening his tone slightly and asking, 'It's not your dad is it?...Jimmy?'

_He couldn't think of anything he'd done…then again, the slightest thing seemed to irritate her at the moment._

'Why is it always my dad with you?' she retorted, spinning to face him furiously. 'Why does Jimmy always come up? For God's sake Sandy, you don't even know the guy…don't know either of them.'

_There she went again. Snapping at Sandy for no reason whatsoever._

'I know they upset you, piss you off.'

'You know who's really pissing me off right now Sandy?' she asked, her voice rising angrily again. 'You!'

'Oh well I'm sorry. I don't know why you bother.'

_How they'd lasted six weeks he didn't know. Three days had been his bet, if that._

Kirsten recoiled at the sarcasm and bit back, 'Me neither. Why don't you just piss off?' The words were already out of her mouth before she realised where she was and had to hastily backtrack.

_She really needed to think before she made outbursts like that. Of course, if she'd followed that advice she wouldn't be having this argument._

'Oh, but I'm in your mail truck…so I'm just gonna…go now.'

_He smiled at that, thought she might. Thought she'd cry again, let him hug her, they'd topple onto the bed together and make up. _

_He thought wrong._

The electric tension was suddenly gone leaving a heavy awkwardness in the air. Sandy watched shell-shocked as Kirsten tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, obviously embarrassed, and head for the door without looking up.

'See you around Sandy,' she mumbled, her voice barely more than a whisper.

_She couldn't be here right now. Not like this._

'Kirsten,' he choked out, 'is…are we…is this…?'

_If she was dumping him she was going to damn well say it._

'You tell me Sandy,' she said, teary blue eyes meeting his for a moment, 'you tell me.'

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So, random huh? Please leave a review!


	2. You tell me

**2 and ½ weeks**

You tell me

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I wrote it but I don't own the characters. Yeah, it sucks!

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Hey, amazing I know – I'm finally posting up some more of this. You know, it's been written for ages (parts of it) but it got really complicated because of the title/first line/last line situation I put myself in – I'm stupid I know! But it's here now, sorry this chapter is so short but I just really wanted to post for you all. Enjoy

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You tell me. You tell me.

_His call._

What a stupid thing to say.

What did it mean?

_What on earth did she mean?_

She couldn't tell Sandy anything.

_He didn't know what was going on._

Not what she thought.

_Not what she was thinking._

Not what she was going to do.

_What was he going to do?_

He thought maybe if he gave her some time to cool off things would sort themselves out. But she hadn't called him.

_She couldn't call him. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? Nothing had changed overnight she still had this cloud hanging over her, this nagging anxiety, this fully blown fear, this uncertainty._  
So he called her.

And he kept calling.

Because no one was picking up, or if they were, they weren't talking.

_He kept calling her and every time she saw his name on the call display her heart would leap and then plunge. He was so sweet, so perfect and yet she was doing this to him. Acting like this was his fault, shutting him out as though the last six weeks didn't mean anything to her. _

Sometimes he got the answer phone, sometimes just the click as the phone was hung up.

He left messages; '_You said to tell you Kirsten and this isn't it_.'

'_The fight was stupid, out of proportion. I don't even understand how things turned out like this_.'

'_I didn't want it to be like this but I don't think this is up to me anymore_.'

'_I've told you; perhaps it's time for you to tell me what you want_.'

'_Please just let me know Kirsten_.'

Once or twice he heard her breathing on the other end of the line.

Those times he wouldn't speak, holding his breath, willing her to stay.

'_I never said it was over_,' he said one of those times, unable to keep quiet any longer.

'_I'm still here but I don't have to be. Just tell me yes or no, is it over_?'

She didn't put the phone down that time.

'I…don't…know,' she whispered, her voice cracking. 'Right now…I can't…Sandy…I'm sorry.'

And then she was gone.

_She dropped the phone on the floor and put her head between her legs. She wasn't sure if it was the possibly being pregnant or the situation with Sandy that made her feel so sick. _

Sandy stood cradling the phone against his ear for a long time, listening to the dial tone. He didn't have any answers. And neither did Kirsten.

Where did that leave them?

Pretty much lost.

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I couldn't resist a little shout out to Carsten's Angels there lol! Aw forgive me Kandy-shippers, leave a review!

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	3. Pretty much lost

**2 and ½ weeks**

Pretty much lost

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **Ah doo nat owne de O ZEE.

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Well hello again, another short-ish chapter but don't worry – the later chapters get soo much longer it's just silly lol! Happy Easter  
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Pretty. Much. Lost.

That's how she felt. Kirsten didn't know the girl she was right now. She'd always been in control and now she really, really wasn't.

She was fooling herself, she knew that. Lying to herself. Anything to shut out the thoughts that were haunting her.

Late. Late. Late.

Or not late.

Not late. Pregnant.

This wasn't happening.

But what if it was?  
She'd tried to pretend but she was two weeks late and feeling off. Throwing up each morning of the past few days and she knew she wasn't just _late_.

She was screwed, literally.

_Oh for God's sake stop with the crappy jokes Kirsten._

What the hell was she going to do?

Her dad would kill her.

Her mom would try to pretend she wasn't upset.

Sandy…oh shit. Sandy.

The baby's father.

No, it wasn't a baby, not yet. It didn't feel like a baby, it was just 'it', a thing. A problem.

She was pregnant, that was all.

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That weekend hecalled again and was surprised to have someone answer.

Someone. Not Kirsten.

'Hey Sandy,' her roommate said.

'How'd you know it was me?'

'Who else rings Kirsten with such regularity?' she joked. 'Nah, she has call display; how else do you think she screened your calls?'

'Is she there?' he asked. Sandy didn't like this girl much, but then again, she didn't seem to like Sandy.

'Kirsten's gone home for the weekend.'

'_What_?'

'What?'

'She went _home_? As in Newport?'

'Dur Sandy! That's where she lives,' the girl's tone was scathing.

'I know _that_,' he said crossly, 'but _home_? With her sister and her _Dad_ and _Jimmy_.'

'She said you have this obsession with Jimmy.'

'I do _not_. She said that?'

'Well that was the impression she gave. I don't see how you can be so jealous of her ex when you know she doesn't even talk to him.'

Sandy groaned, 'Well if you hadn't noticed, she's not talking to me either.'

'Duly noted.'

'And if she's gone home things are really bad.'

'Why?'

'Are you her friend or not? Kirsten going _home_? She hates it there.'

'I think you're overreacting, she probably just needs time to think.'

_Time to think._

'Great.'

---

Time to think. That's what she needed. Some time, space, peace and quiet. Not that she'd really get that at home with her family.

Dad still angry she'd chosen Berkeley.

Mom busy planning charity events and downing double vodkas when she thought no one was looking.

Hailey being the average irritating six year old.

But she had to get out of Berkeley.

She'd known Sandy a little over seven weeks and yet there were memories of him everywhere; the street-corner where they'd had their first kiss, the law faculty she'd wait outside when he had a late class, his mail truck, her dorm, their bench in the park and a thousand other little places that had some sort of sentimental significance.

And being depressed in Berkeley was made worse by the fact she had been so happy.

Because in Berkeley she had Sandy and in Newport she just had his baby. No. She was pregnant. That was all. She kept repeating that to herself. It was the only way to cope. But Sandy wouldn't see it like that. She'd only known him a couple of weeks but that was enough. To him it would be a baby, his baby and he'd want to be there for it. Do the right thing.

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Review as my Easter present, please!

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	4. Do the right thing

**2 and ½ weeks**

Do the right thing

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I wish it was, mine I mean.

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The first of multiple posts today to celebrate one year of fic writing!

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Do the right thing. That was the last thing she felt like doing.

Kirsten had always done the right thing; right grades, right clothes, right boyfriend…until she chose Berkeley.

Jimmy had 'done the right thing' and she hated to compare Sandy to him.

Why go back to doing the 'right thing' now?  
She'd gone to the 'wrong' school, chosen the 'wrong' course and was dating the 'wrong' guy, their romance the result of a one-night stand. Stupid, foolish, risky, whatever you called it, it certainly wasn't the 'right' thing to do. It was wrong, oh so wrong and Kirsten was loving it. It all felt so right.

It hadn't been just a one-night stand; six weeks later and she had a great boyfriend out of it, what was wrong with that?

Nothing…until the part where she got pregnant.

That was so bloody wrong.

And the pregnancy test she'd taken, that had to be wrong.

The positive pregnancy test.

Wrong, it should be negative, a big, fat negative because there was nothing positive about this. Nothing.

It was _not_ right, it couldn't be.

That didn't change the pink line in the test window though.

Not in any of the three tests she'd bought in three different chemists.

Triple humiliation because she couldn't bear to believe the first one. It was all so stupid.

She wasn't stupid. She knew one-night stands were risky, seen as 'morally wrong' but hers had been more than that. And when something so right came out of them that had to be the right kind of wrong.

Pregnancy however was the worst kind of wrong.  
They weren't stupid; it wasn't as if they hadn't been careful. They were little more than strangers plus a bag load of sexual tension and that was enough of a risk.

So much for that.

She'd never thought about the 1 ineffective statistic. 99 effective had seemed enough until now.

Nothing was perfect.

Just like her.

Nothing was good enough.

Just like she wasn't for her dad.

She couldn't cope with this.

She knew that the instant she comprehended those three pink lines.

She couldn't be that girl.

She knew that the moment the doctor told her she was seven weeks pregnant.

And she couldn't tell Sandy.

The moment the doctor asked after the baby's father she knew that.

She'd shaken her head and he hadn't pressed her. Obviously thinking she was a dumb California blonde who'd gotten into trouble, had yet another one-night stand and paid the price. It wasn't like that.

She had a boyfriend…had…used to have…she wasn't sure.

A one-night stand that lead to the best six weeks of her life. Six weeks.

Followed by the worst week ever.

The baby's father; her boyfriend of six weeks.

To think she'd been pregnant all that time. The thought sickened her and that made her feel guilty.

But she couldn't do this, wouldn't do this.

Perhaps growing up in Newport Beach had made her as selfish as they come but it was her life, her body and she hadn't asked for this baby.

So what if it was her fault? It took two to tango and Sandy wasn't going to be the one with the morning sickness, the exhaustion, the aching back, the stretch marks and the labour pains.

She was 18. She wanted a life.

She wanted to finish college, she wanted her degree.  
Her own life, not one tied to her father's money.

It was selfish.

But she could never go through with anything else.

She lived in a dorm room. He lived in a mail truck. It was crazy to even think about it.

She could never do it.

She'd never be a good enough mother.

It was for the best.

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Happy Easter. Please review!

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	5. For the best

**2 and ½ weeks**

For the best

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **Josh is the owner…the master…but we do not bow to his will right now because I am mad with him!

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Hope you're all having a good weekend. Enjoy

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It was for the best. For all of us.

For me. For it. (She still couldn't call it a baby) For Sandy.

She repeated it over like a mantra.

For the best. For everyone.

Her mom, her dad, her sister. For Sandy, for her.

For the…for…it.

Over and over and over.

It took her twenty minutes to pluck up the courage to actually enter the building. It wasn't that it looked particularly uninviting; in fact it looked pretty reputable for an abortion clinic that would deal in cash, it was just she was scared. She was glad she'd arrived a whole hour early.

Inside she sat with the consent form in front of her, eyes skimming over the words; anything to make this less real, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself crying. She checked the boxes, printed the date in a shaky hand and hesitated on the line where she had to sign. Half of her didn't want to do this. This other half was simply frightened of this being traced. She glanced up at the clock; she had ten minutes, and caught the receptionist's eye. Kirsten glanced hurriedly back at the paper and paused again.

'You don't have to put your name,' a quiet voice said beside her. It was the receptionist. 'Just put Mary.'

'I can do that?'

'Officially no but we turn a blind eye to it.'

'Why Mary?'

'Someone's idea of a joke. Virgin Mary you know.'

Kirsten nodded and scrawled the name.

'Shall I take that?'

She found she had to prise her fingers from the document and once she'd let go they began to tremble.

'It'll be okay honey,' the woman said. 'Now, how are you paying? Cash, check or credit?'

That was the other reason she'd had to go home. She'd withdrawn as much as much as she could afford from her Berkeley bank account and then only a little from the one in Newport so as not to arouse suspicion. The rest of the amount she'd managed find digging around in her room. The epitome of a Newport Princess; finding $200 in a Gucci purse you hadn't used since sophomore year.

She handed over the envelope as a nurse appeared and beckoned to her. She took a deep breath and another, bracing herself.

'They're ready for you,' the receptionist said, as if she didn't know that. 'It won't take long. I'm sure this is for the best.'

For the best.

For the best.

Kirsten focussed on that as she herself out of the chair and sleepwalked across the room.

It was what she had forced herself to think as she'd told the doctor her decision and now she used it to block out the voice of the counsellor in that oh-so-helpful three minutes.

For the best.

Repeating it like a mantra in her head over the sound of the machine.

For the best.

Less than a quarter of an hour later and she was free to go; $600, one foetus and a hell of a lot of innocence poorer.

---

She was stood at the bus stop when he saw her, her arms wrapped round her waist, shivering. Kirsten didn't see him until he was close by, startled out of her melancholy reverie by an oh so familiar and comforting but ultimately heartbreaking voice.

'Kirsten.'

_It was so good to see her. _

Her head jerked upwards but she didn't look in his direction, scanning the road desperately for her bus and returning her gaze to her feet.

'Kirsten,' he said again, nearing her.

She was trembling, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tried not to cry.

_Not here. Not right now. Not in front of Sandy._

He put his hand on her arm and she flinched away. A bus roared up to the stop and Kirsten moved towards it, not caring where it was heading.

'Kirsten,' he tried a third time.

He heard her draw a shaky breath, tilting her head back to stop the tears from falling and then ducking it again.

He let her go. Watching as she hurried onto the bus, bought a ticket and sat down. Even through the steamy windows he could see she was about to cry, the eyes that refused to meet his were awash.

She sat back feeling sick as the bus drove off.

_Sandy. Sandy. Sandy. _

_Daddy. Daddy. Daddy._

Kirsten roughly wiped her cheeks.

Had he done this to her? Was this his fault? He wished he knew. 'What did I do wrong?' he asked the back of the receding bus. 'What did I do wrong?'

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How's it going?

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	6. What did I do wrong?

**2 and ½ weeks**

What did I do wrong?

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Well the story is…not the characters.

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Here I am again. Deep Kirsten angst up ahead!

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_What did I do wrong Kirsten? Please tell me. Are you okay? I mean, you're obviously not okay but what's wrong? What did I do wrong Kirsten? Call me when you get this. Thanks. It's me, by the way, Sandy, obviously!_

That was the first of the four messages left on her phone by the time she got back t her room. She smiled through her tears. It was just like Sandy to forget to say who it was at the start of a message. And as if she needed him to tell her. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was her. She had.

_I don't know what's going on Kirsten but I'm sorry, please can't we talk? I promise I'll let you get a word in edgeways, really I will. I really need to hear your voice, I need you to tell me this time. Tell me what's going on…_

How could she even start? There was no way. She pressed erase and waited for the next message.

_Hey Kirsten, I'm sure you're home by now, pick up, please. Please? Please?_

No. She couldn't. She just couldn't do it.

_You can't do this. You can't just blank me it isn't fair. If you want me out of your life I understand, well I don't, because I don't know what I've done but I can't say I didn't see it coming. But at least have the decency to say it to my face, to let me know what went wrong or admit that you were using me. I don't think you were, I thought we meant something to each other because...I know we haven't known each other for very long but…you mean a lot to me and I hate to see you like thi-_

The machine had cut his ramble off at that point. She wished she dared call him. She wished she could explain, but she couldn't. She hated that he thought she didn't care, that he didn't mean anything to her. He did. He meant too much.

Thankfully her roommate was out, she didn't know or care where, and she could curl up in bed, the tears that had been threatening for hours finally allowed to fall.

And how they fell. Kirsten didn't know you could physically cry yourself sick, cry until you could barely see, cry until you literally fell asleep exhausted.

It was the only way she could sleep.

She'd learnt now that you could cry for hours, cry and cry until you thought you were empty, head throbbing, eyes swollen, and fall asleep only to wake up with more tears to shed. It was endless.

She knew now that you could cry in your sleep. Sleep wasn't a respite, just a continuance of the nightmare.

She hadn't reckoned with the pain.

Not physical, emotional. And that was a thousand times worse.

The fact she had been awake, anesthetised but not asleep.

The dirty, disgusted feeling

The guilt

The sleepless nights

The tears

The way that Sandy's voice on her answer phone made her want to cry, or retch, or both.

Sometimes she wished she could see him, missed the way he made everything feel better.

But he couldn't change this.

He couldn't know.

She missed everything about him.  
She'd known him just over eight weeks yet she missed him so completely.

The way his voice sounded when he said her name, his hugs, his bright blue eyes beneath those monstrous brows. His stupid jokes, his sheepish smiles, his kisses.

After that she stopped taking his calls on her private lines. He was left to call her dorm house. The Resident Advisor who took the messages probably thought he was a stalker. Each day her roommate collected the piles of little yellow post-its.

_Kirsten, it's Sandy, call me._

_Kirsten, please call me. Sandy_

_Kirsten, this isn't it. Sandy_

And then when he hadn't left actual messages.

_Sandy Cohen called for Kirsten Nichol_

_Sandy Cohen called for Kirsten Nichol_

_Sandy Cohen called for Kirsten Nichol._

Each with a different date and time neatly filled into the forms by the R.A.

She couldn't call him, not now.

Even if this wasn't it. Even if it wasn't over.

Because it was.

It had to be.

He couldn't know but how could she carry on without him knowing?

She couldn't. The guilt would kill her.

Guilt

Regret

What was the difference?

I don't regret what I've done, she repeated to herself.

I feel guilty.

She didn't wish she hadn't; she knew that she'd had to. So that was just regret. Right?

But didn't she wish she hadn't?

She felt guilty now.

Incredible, heart wrenching, mind numbing, aching, sickening guilt.

But there hadn't been any other way.

Going back in time she'd probably do it again.

Regret;

Guilt;

She didn't _regret_ the decision.

She felt _guilty _for it.

Which was worse?

The guilt would always haunt her but it wouldn't eat her away like regret.

She did not regret it.

It was guilt.

Only guilt.

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Really I shouldn't post so fast – it only reduces my reviews. Prove me wrong!

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	7. Only guilt

**2 and ½ weeks**

Only guilt

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **Who says it's mine? Hands up! Sorry, you're wrong!

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I just can't seem to help adding Paul into my fics these days! lol

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Only guilt. Huh. What a phrase.

This guilt physically hurt, made her sick, ate away at her resistance until she cried again. Awake or asleep she could feel it, it wasn't lessening any. She stood in the shower and let her tears mingle with the spray and swirl down the drain. If only she could wash away the guilt and send it the same way. As she got out Kirsten caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and it held her for a moment. She hadn't looked at herself recently. She took in the pale, thin girl in the glass and didn't recognize herself. Suddenly she realized she couldn't meet her own eyes. She skated over her face rather than looking at it. Not able to meet her own gaze, look at herself. And that was when she knew she had a bigger problem. She wasn't just distraught about this, she was controlled by it. She'd once heard that people who killed someone, spies, assassins, murderers, only knew they were going to be okay when they could look into the mirror and look themselves in the eye. As melodramatic as it sounded she knew that was what she had to do. Then she'd be alright. She had killed her child and she would suffer for that, but she would survive if she could only look at herself. Admit to herself who she was and what she had done.

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet those of her reflection.

The eyes in the mirror were reddened and glassy with tears, the pupils large and empty.

Hollow.

She forced herself to keep looking.

They looked green rather than blue.

She could see right into herself and she didn't like it.

Killer. Her eyes said.

_No. I'm a realist. I had to._

They were filled with regret.

_No. Guilt. Guilt. Oceans of guilt._

They were dark and dull, empty. Lost.

_She felt as empty as her eyes. As lost._

_Perhaps she was._

But at the same time there was something behind them. They were guarded.

_She had something to hide now._

'My name is Kirsten Nichol,' she told the reflection, watching the other girl's lips move with hers.

'My name is Kirsten Nichol and…'

She couldn't say it out loud. She took a deep breath.

'My name is Kirsten Nichol and…sometimes things just…happen.'

Yes. Something had happened but it was over now.

The other girl was always going to be on the other side of the mirror. She was never going to look at her reflection the same way again but at least she could look at it.

Sometimes things just happen and she had to live with it.

Live with it. Not for now but forever.

Forever was an awful long time to keep such a secret but she had to.

Forever, because sometimes things just happen.

---

'Sometimes these things just happen,' Paul told him sympathetically. 'Things just don't work out.'

'Why were you telling me last week that she was a keeper then?'

'Well…uh…fate works in mysterious ways.'

'Mysterious. Great.'

'She's a woman, it's what you signed up for by being straight,' someone else chipped in.

'Thanks. That's really comforting.'

'Come on Sandman, don't get yourself down over another girl, I thought we were past this.'

'Kirsten isn't just another girl.'

'Sandy, you've known her, what, seven weeks?'

'Almost eight.'

'Apples and pears. In other words, no time. It can't have meant that much.'

'I don't know. I thought it did. She obviously didn't.'

'Just like someone else we could mention,' Paul commented. 'What is it with you and those kinda girls?'

'Don't.' Sandy said, his voice hard like steel. 'Just. Don't.'

'Sorry.'

'Nah, I shouldn't have snapped at ya.'

'We get why you're upset,' Paul began.

'Yeah, that chick was hot.'

Sandy sighed. They weren't going to understand. Perhaps he was a fool but he'd fallen hard for her and now he was taking this messy pseudo-break-up even harder. The guys wanted him to go out, get plastered and forget about her but how could he? She wasn't forgettable and he was worried about her. Upset by the tears rolling down her porcelain cheeks, angry because he didn't know what to do.

---

There was someone waiting for Sandy after he finished his last class on Wednesday afternoon but it wasn't who he wanted to see.

It was Kirsten's roommate.

'What the hell did you do to her Cohen?' she yelled at him, storming over and blocking his exit from the courtyard, hands on hips, eyes flashing demandingly.

'What's wrong with Kirsten?' he asked anxiously.

'Last week I told you she was moping, crying, well that was _nothing _compared to this week; I didn't know someone could cry that much.'

'What do you mean?'

'She's distraught, crying all the time, sobbing in fact.'

'I haven't done anything; she won't even talk to me.'

'You saw her though,'

'I didn't _do_ anything. You really think I'd upset her like that? Come on.'

'All I know is that she seemed better after the weekend. I don't know, decided, resolute…I thought she was over you. Then she went out on Monday, saw you and hasn't been sensible since. _No one_ should cry that much over a guy and certainly not over _you_.'

'Yes she saw me; yes I tried to talk to her. _She_ was the one who blanked _me_.'

'Well now she's beside herself, stays in bed, skips classes, cries herself sick. She hasn't slept in days.'

'You've got to let me see her.'

'Don't you think you've done enough?'

---  
Have I done enough? Should I stop here? hahaha

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	8. Don't you think you've done enough?

**2 and ½ weeks**

Don't you think you've done enough?

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **It's my precioussssss. Or at least it is inside my head.

---  
I think a lot of you were hoping for a happy conclusion a lot earlier on. I'm sorry. And no, you're still not getting it. I'm evil.

---

'Don't you think you've done enough?' the words circled in his head.

No, he didn't think he had actually.

He couldn't let this go, so Sandy persevered. He was good at that.

It was how he'd survived sixteen years in the Bronx.

It made him ring his mother every week even if it was only to listen to her criticism.

It kept focused on his assignments when he was already dead tired from a long shift.

Perseverance was what pushed him through Law School and what would make him the excellent lawyer he was going to become.

Sandy didn't know all that. He just wanted to talk to Kirsten, face to face, know what was going on. If she was broken, fix her. If she was sad, make her smile.

He didn't have reasons other than he wanted to and that was good enough.

He'd hung around the Art History department but hadn't seen her for days.

Trying not to appear too suspicious he'd spent an entire afternoon watching the door of her residential block.

He didn't mean to be creepy, he just missed her.

She hadn't left the building once.

On Friday he'd made a pretence of visiting Kirsten's roommate and got another short, sharp shrift, this time stood in the hallway outside the room. It was killing him to know she was in there even as he and the other girl stood bickering.

'She doesn't want to see you,'

_It hurt. So he retaliated…with humour. Only it wasn't very funny._

'You keep saying that, doesn't seem to be working does it?'

The girl glared. 'Not my fault you can't force the message into your numb skull.'

_Ok, that girl was really pissing him off now._

'Who says my head has anything to do with it.'

A roll of the eyes. 'Oh purlease, don't get soppy on me.'

'I know she's there. Give me five minutes. Please.'

_He was practically begging now, he knew that, but he had to see her._

'The answer's no Sandy.'

'What are you? Her warden?'

'Look,' the girl said softening slightly. 'I don't know what went on between the two of you and I'm not likely to get it out of Kirsten…' Sandy tried to interrupt but she cut him off. 'I'm sorry Sandy but every time I mention you she looks all weird and then either pukes or cries.'

_So that was the effect he was having on girls these days. Great, just great._

'She says she can't. That she's sorry.'

'Well I'm sorry too,' he said bitterly, turning and stalking away.

_And he was. So damn sorry. Sorry that he'd taken a chance and it had failed, sorry he'd lost her and most of all, sorry that he still loved her._

Kirsten, stood on the other side of the door, let herself slide down to a sitting position, tugging her knees up to her chest and fighting the interminable tears.

_He would never understand. He could never know. She had to do this._

It was a couple of minutes before her roommate came back in. Kirsten guessed she had been watching Sandy walk away. She could picture it. Sandy turning dejected, pushing his hair out of his eyes and trudging down the corridor. Away from her.

_And that's how it had to be. However much it hurt. She hated hurting him but it had to be done. There was no way she could keep her composure long enough to see him and try to say something. Not with those earnest eyes on her face. And what could she say?_

'You heard?' her roommate asked

Kirsten nodded and looked away.

_She was a horrible person. Not only did she kill their child she didn't even have the decency to break up with the father properly. She deserved everything that was coming to her; every sleepless night, every painful sob, every minute of this guilt. People said guilt nagged at you, hers roared, screamed, beat her with its fists. God she was going crazy._

'Did I do the right thing?'

_She didn't know._

'Kirsten? You don't want to see him right?'

_She didn't know. She felt sick again._

'Kirsten?'

'I don't know,' she muttered as she headed for the bathroom. 'I don't know.'

---  
Do you like it? And don't say 'I don't know'!

---


	9. I don't know

**2 and ½ weeks**

I don't know

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the OC. But I do own a chocolate rabbit and a chocolate hen! Yay for Easter!

---  
Dark chapter – suicidal thoughts and excessive amounts of vodka and sleeping pills. You have been warned.  
---

I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Kirsten thought to herself. I'm slowly going crazy.

I don't know who I am. Don't know if I care.

She rolled the phial of pills between her fingers. Meds were always easy to get in Newport, straight cash; no questions asked. There was a roaring trade from the Mexico border.

She glanced up at the large bottles of vodka on her nightstand, one already empty. Alcohol was too, she reflected. Newport must have the largest percentage of alcoholics per square mile of anywhere in the US.

And it looked like she was going to join the ranks; she'd drunk more this past week than she had the entire semester. Quite a feat for a college freshman.

But now it didn't seem to be working so well, it took a long time for the liquor to numb her feelings like it used to; she needed twice as much now. And to be honest she just wanted to sleep well for one night and not have an incredible hangover in the morning. Hence the pills.

Or so she told herself as she tossed two back with yet another shot of vodka.

She didn't really want to die did she?

The fact she had to ask herself scared her. Suicide had never really appealed to her before; Newport wasn't exactly big on that kind of thing. But she had to admit that the idea of not waking up to this mess was pretty tempting.

Another shot. Another pair of pills.

It would be easier. So much easier. And she'd never even know it.

Unless of course someone found her, took her to hospital, got her stomach pumped. Kirsten grimaced at the idea and took the next shot minus the pills.

Dying wouldn't change things, she reasoned. Her family would be sorry but they'd get over it. Her mom would probably become a fully fledged alcoholic but who wasn't? Hailey was already well on the way to going off the rails and her dad…well. He'd probably just use it as an example against the public UC system.

Jimmy might feel guilty but of course he'd think it was his fault. Make everything about him as per usual.

Her family and friends and neighbours would all come to the funeral, say things about her, say it was a shame, talk like they knew her when they didn't.

None of them knew a damn thing about her. None of them would know why.

The only person who really knew her was Sandy and even he didn't know why she wanted to do this.

God, she wanted to do this?

With a shaking hand she skipped the glass and swigged from the bottle, contemplating tossing back the pills as well.

No, no. She couldn't. That was the easy way out. She'd done this; she had to live with it. It was her punishment.

Angry tears splashing down her face Kirsten stumbled towards the bathroom and tipped the contents of the canister down the toilet.

No one knew her.

No one cared.

But she wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of her dying, and certainly not herself. She watched the brightly coloured pills swirl in the water as she flushed.

So she wasn't going to die, she was going to suffer. But that didn't mean she couldn't help herself through it.

Back in her room, lights off, curtains drawn, Kirsten lay on her bed and drowned her sorrows in vodka, her salty tears mingling with the strong alcohol. It became perfectly clear in her hazy mind why she hadn't taken all the pills. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Not sleep, wake up. Even as she drifted into a heavy sleep she knew she just wanted to wake up.

---

I always said there were a lot of Marissa-Kirsten mirrors, why not add another? Except of course Kirsten is vastly superior to Marissa but you know, she hasn't annoyed me lately!

---


	10. Wake up

**2 and ½ weeks**

Wake up

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I wouldn't be here if I did.

---

A lovely long chapter for you. It's rather amusing – this is four times as long as the first chapter!

---

'Wake up,' the frightened girl had yelled at her roommate, shaking her desperately. 'Wake up Kirsten! Wake. Up.' But she hadn't. And she'd taken in the bottles, the plastic canister and the solitary blue pill lying on the floor, conspicuous in its singularity, with frightened eyes.

---

Sandy received a frantic phone call late on Saturday morning. It wasn't the call he had been waiting for but it was something. It was Kirsten's roommate, near-hysterical, begging him to come over. He barely understood the garbled message but it didn't matter; it was something to do with Kirsten, he was there.

Ten minutes later he was outside her door where Kirsten's frantic friend hauled him inside so fast he didn't have time to think about this strange reversal of events. Her high-pitched voice grated in his ears.

'I can't wake her up. Sandy, you've got to help me. She won't wake up, she just won't wake up.'

Sandy took in the messy apartment, the empty vodka bottles and the motionless form of his g…was it ex-girlfriend…on the bed. That wasn't what caused his breath to hitch uncomfortably in his chest though. It was the empty pill bottle that did that. He could feel the panic rise, his heart pounding in his head as he approached Kirsten but one look at her friend's terrified face and he knew he had to take control.

'Open the curtains,' he snapped, forcing his voice to stay steady.

The girl did so and Sandy could see Kirsten more clearly. She was lying twisted in the bedclothes, her hair splayed across her face. To his immense relief he could see strands fluttering slightly over her mouth. She was breathing.

'She's breathing,' he said out loud, more to convince himself than to calm the girl stood fidgeting beside him.

But they were pretty shallow, her chest barely moving and Sandy knew they had to wake her up and fast, god knows how much vodka she'd drunk, how many pills she'd taken. That kind of cocktail was lethal.

'Go fetch some water.'

Sandy hurriedly tugged Kirsten's floppy arm out of the sheets and pressed his fingers to her wrist. She had a pulse too, strong enough, if rather slow and that was to be expected when she was this comatose. He brushed Kirsten's hair out of her face, surprised at how pale it was. She was really far under, he could tell when he lifted her eyelids and could see only the whites of her eyes.

'Kirsten,' he said loudly, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her sharply.

No response, she simply flopped in his arms like a rag doll.

He bit his lip before slapping both her cheeks. It didn't seem to have any effect. Where the hell was that girl with the water?

The realisation that he should probably have put her in the recovery position suddenly dawned on him and he hurriedly rolled her onto her side, positioning her arms and tipping back her head. She was still breathing and she wasn't swallowing her tongue. Two things to be thankful for.

The roommate finally appeared with a bowl and Sandy didn't hesitate in tossing the ice cold water over Kirsten's face. She stirred slightly and he shook her again. A few seconds later her eyes cracked open and Sandy let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding.

'S-s-sandy?'

'Hey.'

'Wh-what are you doing here?'

'Your roommate called me. She couldn't wake you up.'

'Oh. Sorry, I was exhausted.'

'Looks like it was more than exhaustion.'

'It's been a rough week…I had a couple of drinks…'

'Kirsten, don't lie to me. Straight vodka and sleeping pills? What were you thinking? How many did you take? You could have been killed.'

'I didn't take them, well I didn't overdose.'

'How many did you take?'

She hung her head. 'Four.'

'So taking four times the recommended dose isn't overdosing?'

'I'd have been fine if I hadn't drunk four bottles of vodka as well. I guess the combination kinda knocked me out.'

There was a long silence that basically said 'ya think?'

'Where are the pills then?' he roommate asked.

'I flushed them. I didn't want that kind of temptation.'

'Why?' his voice was hoarse and Kirsten knew he was wracking his brains trying to figure out how he'd hurt her. 'Why would you want to kill yourself?'

'I didn't,' she mumbled. 'I don't know. I was drunk. I was upset. It was stupid I know that. There's an hundred reasons but you aren't one of them ok?'

_Not exactly. Just by default. Indirectly._

'I just…wanted to sleep.'

He looked at her.

_If it wasn't him, what was it?_

Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, still sticky from the long sleep. The button nose that Sandy had kissed so tenderly a few weeks ago was now red and sore. Golden blonde hair hung in lank strands round the beautiful face that was pale and pinched from lack of food and sunshine, there were violet shadowed hollows beneath her eyes.

Dull blue eyes.

Not bright and sparkling with laughter.

Not electric blue with lust.

Not dark and misty with love.

Just a pale, empty grey.

If eyes were the window to the soul, Kirsten's was missing.

She was incredibly conscious of her appearance, the state of the room; the messy bed, piles of assignments and mail on her desk and the clothes strewn across the floor. She shrunk into herself, embarrassed that she was wearing Sandy's Berkeley sweater. The one she'd filched from his wardrobe. Wearing the sweater of the boy she'd blanked for more than two weeks. Because even though she couldn't bear to see him, she wanted his comfort.

'My sweater,' he gave a muted exclamation.

_She was wearing his sweater. Did it mean anything?_

'Sorry,' she said quickly. 'I'll wash it.'

_Wash it, give it back, lose the final part of him._

He looked as if he was about to say something else but suddenly they were both very aware that Kirsten's roommate was there.

'I should take a shower,' Kirsten said after a long, awkward pause, forcing herself up and immediately regretting it as the headache that had been quietly beating a tattoo in the back of her head screeched across to the front. She stumbled dizzily and Sandy caught her, 'Sit down,' he ordered and she complied. A moment later they were both sat on the floor, Kirsten's head between her legs.

The roommate had mysteriously disappeared.

'You're not going to explain are you?' he said, and between his quiet voice and the pounding in her head Kirsten had to strain to make out the words. She shook her head, still staring at the floor, glad her hair hid her face.

'First rule of law; never ask questions you don't already know the answer to.'

_He was starting to ramble again and this really wasn't the time or the place._

It wasn't a joke. His voice was hollow and Kirsten had an awful feeling he knew or guessed more than he let on.

_But he couldn't._

'I can't,' she told him, looking up and finding herself reflected in his eyes, very small, like her own child.

Their child.

Without her even realising the seemingly never-ending well of tears had spilled over in her eyes. She tasted them on her lips even as she convulsed with sobs.

_Crying again, a voice inside her head mocked. All you do is cry._

It was instinctive, almost compulsory to pull her towards him, envelop her in his arms and feel her irregular breathing against his chest.

_What was he doing? What was going on? He didn't know._

It was impossible not to find himself filled with a hundred thousand conflicting emotions.

_He loved her. But he was damn confused._

She was a question he didn't have the answer to.

It scared him but he couldn't forget it.

Kirsten buried her head in his chest, tears staining his shirt. She felt him hold her closer, fingers running tenderly through her hair.

_What on earth was going on? She couldn't be here like this, not with Sandy. _

But it was possible to ignore the thoughts, at least for now. Breathe in his touch, his comfort as she cried.

_The voice sang out again. _

_All you do is cry_

---

Do you appreciate the length? Prove it to me!

---


	11. All you do is cry

**2 and ½ weeks**

All you do is cry

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I wouldn't be here if I did.

---

Penultimate chapter. Enjoy it!

---

'All you do is cry these days,' her roommate observed a few days later. I thought things were better now.'

_Better. Better? Could they ever be? She still cried herself to sleep. She still cried when she woke up. She cried at children in the park, she cried at adverts for baby lotion and sometimes she simply cried at nothing._

'Kirsten? You and Sandy ok?'

_Sandy. She didn't know what was going on there. _

Saturday, after Kirsten's roommate had left they'd sat on the dorm floor until Kirsten cried herself sick, again. And Sandy had held up her hair as she crouched over the toilet.

_She'd blocked him out and here he was helping her, again and again._

He'd tidied her room while she showered and then forced her outside. The sun had finally come out, the soggy campus was quiet and they wandered along in silence.

_Silence. She didn't think she'd heard Sandy be silent. Eventually it was too much._

'Say something Sandy,' she begged.

He looked at her startled.

_He wished he knew what to say. He wanted to say so much, to ask so much but he couldn't. For once he couldn't find the words and he also didn't want to pressure the fragile girl beside him._

'Please. It's weird you being quiet.'

_It was weird being together like this she added silently._

Sandy gave a hollow laugh. 'I have a lot questions I know you don't want to answer. I want to talk about a lot of things but…'

'You know I don't want to talk about them?'

_God, he knew her better than she knew herself._

'Yeah. And I don't think you're really in a fit state to talk about everything right now anyway.'

'I don't have any answers Sandy.'

'That makes two of us.'

More silence.

'It's getting dark,' Sandy observed. 'We should head back.'

Sunday, Kirsten's roommate had her boyfriend over and if the devil had asked her out she would have gone. As it was it was Sandy, offering to help her catch up on the work she'd missed. He had a test to study for and said they may as well study in company. He'd insisted.

It was a weird day, the relationship between them undefined, the silences sometimes so awkward and other times comfortable. Sandy would crack jokes and they'd laugh before suddenly catching each other's eye and stopping, suddenly, uneasily and going back to their work. Kirsten offered to make lunch, an offer that was politely declined and they laughed again. Sandy made cheese sandwiches which Kirsten insisted she could have made. She found herself rambling like him as she tried to pretend that her heart wasn't fluttering simply because his hand had brushed hers as he handed her the plate. The afternoon wore on and her Art History notes became less and less appealing. She began to watch him studying; stretched out on the floor, unruly black head bent over his textbook. It made her think of the last study session they'd had together. The next day she'd got her first C of the semester and not just a C, a C- to boot. She'd taken the paper to the mail truck that evening to back up her demand that Sandy help her study for the retake and 'actually study this time'. He'd laughed at that and the test was crumpled between them as he kissed her.

'You just need more practise,' he said when they broke apart.

'You mean more revision?'

'No, you need more practise at spending your study time making out and still getting As.'

'Are you gonna teach me?'

'With pleasure.'

Kirsten smiled slightly at the memory and then flushed when she realised Sandy knew she had been staring at him. Her gaze was swiftly returned to her file. Sandy grinned. If only she knew he'd been watching her too.

'Don't get all embarrassed,' he said, crawling towards her.

That just made her rosy cheeks colour further.

'I'm quite open to being stared at.'

'It wasn't…'

'Kirsten,' his voice was lilting teasingly, 'you were. Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, I was watching you.'

Her cheeks had to be crimson by now.

'Y-You were?' He was right beside her now and for some reason the close proximity was making her stutter. She dropped her eyes away embarrassed.

Sandy reached his hand across the few centimetres between them and gently cupped her face, turning it back towards him.

Kirsten couldn't breathe.

Her eyes were still puffy he noticed, the mauve shadows beneath them masked by concealer. Why hadn't he realised these things earlier? Probably because he hadn't been this close for a while.

'You've been crying,' he stated simply, his breath fluttering across her face.

Kirsten closed her eyes, willing the tears not to come.

'And you haven't been sleeping.'

'I thought you were becoming a lawyer not a detective.'

'Sometimes it's the same thing. Are you okay?'

She wanted to shake her head, cry into his chest but she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry about this in front of him again.

'I'm doing okay.'

'That's not the same thing.'

'Sandy…'

'You know, technically we never really broke up. You said 'you tell me' and you know what I say?'

Kirsten couldn't speak; he was too close, the lump in her throat was too big, she wanted him too much.

Sandy smiled, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face, 'I say no. That wasn't it. It's not over.'

And then he kissed her.

_She shouldn't let this happen, she knew that. She didn't deserve this. But she didn't have the strength to fight; it felt too right._

And Kirsten kissed him back, nervously at first and then ravenously. She wanted him, needed him, had missed him so much. She pushed the guilt away, revelling in how much better he made her feel. Better. So much better.

---

I know it's sort of sudden and strange that they can get back together like this but the title is 2.5 weeks so that's how it has to be.

---


	12. Better

**2 and ½ weeks**

Better

**Summary: **As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

**Disclaimer: **I wouldn't be here if I did.

---

And here we are. It's been a wonderful ride. Love you all my precious reviewers!

---

Better. Better?

'_I thought it would be better this way_.'

He couldn't believe his wife had said that.

Scratch that, he couldn't believe what she'd said full stop. The secret she had just told him. After twenty years.

'How could it _possibly_ be better this way? You lied to me.'

'Sandy,' she pleaded but her husband wasn't listening.

'Two weeks,' he growled. 'Two weeks!'

_He couldn't believe this_

'We were only broken up for _two weeks_.'

'Seventeen days,'

_The longest days of her life_

'We're not arguing over the technicalities, it's still an incredibly short time to make such a giant decision. Two weeks. And we weren't even properly broken up.'

'I know, I...'

'We were just not talking.'

'I know Sandy, _I know_…I just didn't know what to do.'

'Talking to me would have been a start.'

'Come on, you would have flipped. We fell out over nothing remember. We weren't talking, didn't see each other. It felt like being broken up.'

'You were the one who wouldn't take my calls.'

_He remembered the endless phone calls, the sound of the dial tone when she hung up on him. Again._

'I didn't know what to say.'

_It wasn't a defence but it didn't matter._

'Something. Anything.'

Kirsten sighed. 'I couldn't.'

'Why not?'

'Because you would have wanted to keep it and I couldn't. We couldn't. I was _eighteen_ Sandy, still living in a dorm. You were in Law School on a scholarship, living in a_ mail truck_! Not exactly the best place to bring up a child.'

_She has a point, his conscious told him, but Sandy didn't want to listen._

'We could have figured it out, together. But no, you had to shut me out. Is that when it all started?'

'What started?'

'You, shutting me out when something unexpected happens or something goes wrong.'

She couldn't answer that, it was true; she'd done it again and again over the years, shutting Sandy out and forcing him to break down the walls time and time again.

He'd become silent, staring at her, his blue eyes piercing, angry.

'I had no one Sandy,' she said falteringly hoping she could make him understand, stop him hating her.

His response was bitter. 'You could have had me.'

''Please believe me when I say there wasn't anyone I could talk to. I'm sorry but I _couldn't_ talk to you ok? I didn't know how things were going to turn out. I'd known you what, two months? Less than that.'

'And those six weeks hadn't meant anything to you?'

'That isn't true Sandy, you know what I mean.'

'Do I? I'm not so sure.'

'How was I supposed to know we'd figure everything out, that we'd be here today? I never thought I'd be telling you this.'

'Obviously.'

'Sandy, I never wanted it to be like this. But once we were back together I couldn't face telling you. I knew you'd hate me. I didn't want to risk that.'

'Just like you didn't want to risk me knowing about our child.'

'I know you think it was heartless and cruel, that you don't understand how I could but don't think I didn't suffer for it.'

'Suffered did you?'

'Please Sandy. This isn't easy.'

'Well it isn't easy to hear either. I don't suppose it's ever easy to hear your wife has kept a secret from you for the past twenty years, that she aborted your baby without you even knowing. That she lied.'

'I didn't lie. I just…didn't tell you.'

'You took a life.'

'It was my life too Sandy.'

'And mine. Mine and yours and you killed it.'

'It was my life, my body. I had every right to do it.'

'Don't talk to me about rights Kirsten. What about the rights of that baby?'

'Don't act as if I did it on a whim Sandy. Don't pretend I didn't think twice, didn't care. Because I did. I still do ok? You know how much it hurt? You know how much I cried? How awful I felt? No, you don't. So don't you judge me.'

'I wasn't…'

'Yes you are Sandy. You know, I hated myself for a long time, years even. I cried every day for a week. I cried myself sick. I didn't sleep, eat, I was like a zombie. You know all that. And I deserved it. I almost lost you, only didn't because you were too damn stubborn.'

'I didn't know what was wrong.'

'So you're saying if I'd told you we wouldn't be here today?'

'I…how can I answer that Kirsten?'

'I don't suppose you can.'

'Why did you do it if it hurt so much?'

'I didn't know it was gonna be that bad. I felt guilty in a thousand different ways. For doing it, for not telling anyone, for lying to you, for keeping it a secret, for being happy, smiling, laughing ever again. It was driving me crazy. Remember those pills? The four bottles of vodka? I knew I had to stop. So I let go. I'll always feel guilty, I'll always be sorry, but I don't regret it.'

'You don't?'

'No. Regretting things makes it harder. It just guilt I still have.'

'What's the difference?'

'I can live with the guilt.'

'You mean you can justify yourself.'

'I mean there was no way things could have worked out. There's not point regretting something that would have been a disaster. What I did is always with me. It always will be. It's not as if as soon as it was over I picked myself up and carried on. I didn't just slip back into life with you although it seems like it. It took years to not cry when I thought about it and even now that's not always true.'

'Kirsten, I…'

'Don't Sandy, just let me finish.'

'I like to think it's one of those choices we make and it maps out what happens next, shapes the future. And that means Seth and Ryan. They're my saving grace. I probably don't deserve them, or you but I won't look at you all and feel regret, guilt yes but I can't let it destroy me.'

Kirsten hesitated. She didn't have anything left to say.

'We can't let this destroy us either, Sandy.'

He didn't answer, staring past her, his vibrant blue eyes glassy and unfathomable.

'Sandy?' She could hear the tremble in her voice and knew he did to because his hand found hers and squeezed it.

'No,' he told her, pausing to swallow the lump from his throat. When he spoke again his voice was more like his own, if a little gravelly. 'No. It won't. We won't let it…I just, need a little time to...to get my head round this.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't Kirsten, don't apologise. What's done is done. You had your reasons; valid ones and I've got to come to terms with them. It's not that I don't understand I…I guess I'm sorry myself. Sorry that you didn't tell me, that you went through it alone, that you kept it secret this long…'

'It's not your fault.'

'But…'

'I'm okay Sandy.' Kirsten gently caressed the side of his face, 'It was a long time ago…'

'Doesn't mean you've forgotten.'

'No, impossible.'

'But you're okay?'

'I'm okay. Are we okay?'

'We're better than that. Even right now we're better than okay. We're always better than that.'

---

And that's it. Aw I feel sad.  
My plans at present are to work the fic Finale/Blowin' in the Wind. To register you vote for what you want next visit my LJ (I'm ansyUNDERSCORE LINEpansy - stupid won't put the line in. It's not the dash, it's the low dash!) and read the ridiculously long list of fics there. You've been FANTASTIC readers and reviewers. It was worth staying up till 4.30 to write this!

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